Dennis Campbell
America today: a parody of what once was
By Dennis Campbell
Even after more than four decades the memory is sharp and clear. The dread, the sound, the pain. The lesson taught and learned.
I was a senior at a mid-sized high school in suburban Los Angeles County. We were dressing for gym class and I was harassing a nerdy kid at the next locker. Suddenly, I heard the voice of coach O'Brien.
"Campbell, get in here."
He stood in the coaches' office adjoining the locker room, holding a paddle, maybe a foot long, three or four inches wide, a half inch deep.
I was about to get my lesson.
Within moments I was bent over, grabbing my knees. With one deft twist of his wrist, he let me have it. BAM! It sounded like a gunshot and reverberated through the locker room.
The pain was searing. On my backside was a welt as big around as a grapefruit. And not only did I suffer the swat, but Coach O'Brien informed me that if anyone else hassled Nerdy Ned during the next hour, I would be held responsible and could expect another, um, lesson.
My, how things have changed.
I did not go running home crying to my parents. My ex-career Navy officer father would have applauded coach O'Brien. Heck, he might have called him up to thank him. My mother simply would have said, "Well, you deserved it."
No parents storming into the principal's office. No police reports. No threats of lawsuits. Just an appropriate level of corporal punishment meted out to someone who deserved it. And whose behavior was effectively modified.
Later in my senior year, a fellow who fancied himself a tough guy decided to take a swing at a coach. By all accounts, the response was quick and effective, and in a matter of seconds he was on the ground, just another punk in pain.
No complaints, no lawyers, no action against the coach. As my mother would say, the kid just got what he deserved.
Today, of course, such actions would be unthinkable. Unlike my junior high school days, when a certain teacher would drag miscreants to the principal's office by their ears, teachers and administrators today cannot so much as lay a hand on students, whether for punishment or encouragement.
The result was predictable: Out-of-control students and chaotic classrooms, even outright assaults on teachers.
It gets worse. The zero tolerance folks will suspend a kid for forming his thumb and fingers into a gun and saying "bang!" Show up with an aspirin, get sent home.
The threat of lawsuits because Johnny or Judy suffered an ouchie means kids cannot even run during recess. Monkey bars and other contraptions that made recess fun have been removed. When I was in junior high school, we played tackle football in our school clothes, or baseball or basketball. When my friend Larry broke his leg sliding into home plate, his parents didn't sue — he was taken to the hospital, his leg was set, and he returned to school.
Kids can't even play dodge ball, because someone might actually get hit by those soft, rubber balls, his or her delicate psyche damaged for a lifetime. Competition is discouraged because that means someone wins and someone loses, so frequently during games no score is kept.
Now, tell me: Is that not pathetic?
We had an annual event called the Sports Roundup where would-be pugilists pounded each other with enormous, 16-ounce boxing gloves. One fellow decided to challenge our best, Armando Muniz, who went on to become the fifth-rated welterweight in the world. At the end of the match, the kid's face looked like chopped steak.
Can you imagine how the assorted ninnies, nannies and girly men who run our schools would react to that? The horror of it! One of the most popular events had a dozen or so guys in gunnysacks with a boxing glove on one hand, the other hand holding up the sack, hopping around the ring beating on each other.
Oh, the barbarity. But we loved it.
Let's face it. America has become a feminized, pansied parody of what it once was. Our over-protective school nannies are turning out legions of overweight sissies and wusses who spend more time using their thumbs playing video games and text messaging than they do in meaningful physical activity.
Many schools are filled with violent thugs free to terrorize teachers without fear of retribution, especially in the big cities. It all really is pathetic.
In fact, it's just plain disgusting.
© Dennis Campbell
January 13, 2009
Even after more than four decades the memory is sharp and clear. The dread, the sound, the pain. The lesson taught and learned.
I was a senior at a mid-sized high school in suburban Los Angeles County. We were dressing for gym class and I was harassing a nerdy kid at the next locker. Suddenly, I heard the voice of coach O'Brien.
"Campbell, get in here."
He stood in the coaches' office adjoining the locker room, holding a paddle, maybe a foot long, three or four inches wide, a half inch deep.
I was about to get my lesson.
Within moments I was bent over, grabbing my knees. With one deft twist of his wrist, he let me have it. BAM! It sounded like a gunshot and reverberated through the locker room.
The pain was searing. On my backside was a welt as big around as a grapefruit. And not only did I suffer the swat, but Coach O'Brien informed me that if anyone else hassled Nerdy Ned during the next hour, I would be held responsible and could expect another, um, lesson.
My, how things have changed.
I did not go running home crying to my parents. My ex-career Navy officer father would have applauded coach O'Brien. Heck, he might have called him up to thank him. My mother simply would have said, "Well, you deserved it."
No parents storming into the principal's office. No police reports. No threats of lawsuits. Just an appropriate level of corporal punishment meted out to someone who deserved it. And whose behavior was effectively modified.
Later in my senior year, a fellow who fancied himself a tough guy decided to take a swing at a coach. By all accounts, the response was quick and effective, and in a matter of seconds he was on the ground, just another punk in pain.
No complaints, no lawyers, no action against the coach. As my mother would say, the kid just got what he deserved.
Today, of course, such actions would be unthinkable. Unlike my junior high school days, when a certain teacher would drag miscreants to the principal's office by their ears, teachers and administrators today cannot so much as lay a hand on students, whether for punishment or encouragement.
The result was predictable: Out-of-control students and chaotic classrooms, even outright assaults on teachers.
It gets worse. The zero tolerance folks will suspend a kid for forming his thumb and fingers into a gun and saying "bang!" Show up with an aspirin, get sent home.
The threat of lawsuits because Johnny or Judy suffered an ouchie means kids cannot even run during recess. Monkey bars and other contraptions that made recess fun have been removed. When I was in junior high school, we played tackle football in our school clothes, or baseball or basketball. When my friend Larry broke his leg sliding into home plate, his parents didn't sue — he was taken to the hospital, his leg was set, and he returned to school.
Kids can't even play dodge ball, because someone might actually get hit by those soft, rubber balls, his or her delicate psyche damaged for a lifetime. Competition is discouraged because that means someone wins and someone loses, so frequently during games no score is kept.
Now, tell me: Is that not pathetic?
We had an annual event called the Sports Roundup where would-be pugilists pounded each other with enormous, 16-ounce boxing gloves. One fellow decided to challenge our best, Armando Muniz, who went on to become the fifth-rated welterweight in the world. At the end of the match, the kid's face looked like chopped steak.
Can you imagine how the assorted ninnies, nannies and girly men who run our schools would react to that? The horror of it! One of the most popular events had a dozen or so guys in gunnysacks with a boxing glove on one hand, the other hand holding up the sack, hopping around the ring beating on each other.
Oh, the barbarity. But we loved it.
Let's face it. America has become a feminized, pansied parody of what it once was. Our over-protective school nannies are turning out legions of overweight sissies and wusses who spend more time using their thumbs playing video games and text messaging than they do in meaningful physical activity.
Many schools are filled with violent thugs free to terrorize teachers without fear of retribution, especially in the big cities. It all really is pathetic.
In fact, it's just plain disgusting.
© Dennis Campbell
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